Godly Favored
by Tsume Yuki
Summary: Freshly branded, Jack wakes to find himself sheltered in a small, seaside inn. Oh, and there's a lass looking after him. "And how does a fine speakin' woman such as yourself end all tangled up in the business of a pirate?" Did he mention the lass has some healing abilities? Because they're interesting, very interesting. Eventual JackxOC
1. Prologue

**Godly Favored  
****Prologue**

* * *

Gasping for breath, Jack shot up, letting out a low cry at the burning pain in his right forearm. Beckett's mark wasn't just burning, it was searing, a singing pain that danced up his arm and left him gasping for breath. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt something even remotely close to this level of pain, back when he'd got shot through his left shoulder by pirates. Ha, how ironic.

With a groan, Jack pushed up on his good arm, tenderly lifting up the right one that would feel like it wasn't there was it not in such pain. A whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it and his eyes narrowed, adjusting to the light and his surroundings. It was hard to push past the pain, but for the few moments he did, he noticed a few things.  
Comfortable bed, open window with a tangy sea-breeze and a warmish bandage pressed his his wounded forearm. So it wasn't prison then.

Odd, because he didn't remember a daring escape attempt and there was no way that Beckett would find it in his weaselly black heart to give him a nice room before his hanging. Which brought up the question of where he was, and how he had come to be here.

.

A light rustling off to the side alerted Jack to the fact he was very much not alone, and he turned his head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his company before the pain would over take his brain.

"You're awake, that's good." It was a woman, Jack could tell by her voice. Her accent was odd though, British but with a slight, forced twang to it, as if she was pretended she'd been away for the mainland a bit too long. Or perhaps in all honesty, did have a very bad accent. Probably from a colony. This wasn't good, because women were married in colonies, and husbands of women in colonies had a tendency to hand pirates over to the law.

Two gentle hands rested on his shoulder, breaking Jack from his thoughts. A body slipped behind him, two legs covered in a cream material came to rest on either side of his ribs, offering a shaky foundation for support. One hand came to rest on his head, drawing it back till it was resting on two collarbones. He could feel the swell of two feminine curves beneath his shoulders, but the pain drew away the majority of his attention, preventing him from truly enjoying the close proximity he was offered. The hand on his head came to rest on his forehead and a light breath tickled at the back of his head.

"Don't worry, I've got you," the woman murmured, fingertips running back and fourth over his forehead. Slowly, the pain began to fade and unconsciousness beckoned him forwards. Jack slipped off into sleep once again.

* * *

When he came to, Jack was almost sure that it'd all been a feverish dream and he'd awake to see Beckett's smirking face. Yet he was once again met with the lovely little room he'd found himself in last time. Perhaps not a feverish dream then, because he knew from personal experience that no two were the same. The pain had lessened now, not quite a dull throb, but closer to it than the last time he'd been conscious.  
The smell of soup brought him back to his senses, and the Captain looked around the room for the source.

A young woman, perhaps the very same one, was leaning over a small pot, kept warm by the collection of candles placed beneath it. Her hair was short, only just brushing against her shoulders and Jack squinted, trying to make sure he was seeing it right. His vision cleared up a bit, and he noticed that the locks were instead pulled into twin pony-tails that fell forwards instead of behind her shoulders. Hence why he hadn't been able to see them.  
She turned then, seeming aware he'd awoken, and he was pleased to see the golden brown locks indeed fell just like his eyes had told him the second time around. At least they weren't failing him.

.

Instead of looking at him for a bit longer, she turned to the soup and pulled some of it into a bowl, ladle in her left hand. How odd. Finally, she made her way over to his bedside, setting the bowl down on the beside table. As the steam rose from the liquid broth, the girl offered up a light smile before brushing the loose her hair back from her face.

"Good morning. You've been in and out of unconscious for three days."  
Not what he was expecting to hear. Some questions perhaps; how he was injured, who he was, was he really a pirate? Not a statement.

"How's the arm?" She asked, gesturing to his wounded limb.

"Painful," Jack finally ground out. The girl smiled sympathetically before reaching out and carefully taking his right hand in her own, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. Relief seemed to flood in through the contact and Jack bit back a sigh, disturbed as he was. The pain disappearing and the girl; clearly linked together. He'd already had his fair share of the supernatural, but this was a little harder to believe. He'd have to see Tia when he got a chance.

"That should take the edge off it," the girl finally murmured before sitting back and clasping her hands in her lap.

"I don't mean to be rude luv, but who are ye, n' how did ye come by ol' Jack?"  
The girl raised a brow, the same colouring as her hair and Jack finally got a good look at her face. She was pretty enough, light silver eyes and a light tan spreading across her features. As if she'd spent a good majority of her childhood inside and way had only just gotten out in the last year or two. At least, in comparison to him.

"Verity Lewis. I'm from one of the colonies, but I ran away months ago due to extraneous circumstances."  
Forcing himself into a fully straight seated position, Jack cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head to a side.

"And how does a fine speakin' woman such as yourself end all tangled up in the business of a pirate?" She had to be the daughter of some nobleman for sure, she spoke exceedingly well and could probably read and write. Didn't explain how she took the pain away though. Unless she'd ran to not be exposed as a witch or something along those lines. He knew Tia had had a close call a year or two ago. Before she tricked all her followers into fighting amongst themselves, that was.

"I saw the redcoats loading you up into a cart, all sweat and shivery and obviously in pain. It didn't sit well, so I distracted them a bit. Once they were off searching for my certainly not present family, I drove the cart into town and here we are." Gesturing her arms out to indicate the room around them, Verity offered up a light smile before seating herself once again next to his bedside. "I hope you don't have a problem being spoon fed for the moment."

.

It was very degrading, not being able to feed himself. Well, he could hold a spoon with his left hand, but then he couldn't hold the bowl with his right, and balancing it on his lap was just asking for trouble. The girl looked at him with an amused smile, her eyes never leaving his form for more than a few seconds.

"See somethin' ye like luv?" Verity smiled at him, brushing hairs back from her forehead again before letting out a light laugh.

"I suppose. The beads are quite pretty," she murmured, reaching out and playing with the strand of hair, left of his head, which held a collection of adventure mementos.

"Not quite what I was getting' at."

"I know."  
Watching as the girl stood and placed the bowl on the nearby table, Jack let himself shuffle back a bit till he was resting against the headboard, taking the strain from his worn body.

"How old are ye luv?"

"Sixteen."

"And why be it then, that a pretty lass like yourself isn't married yet?"  
Verity turned to look at him, smile on her face as brought over the water flasks she'd topped up.

"Dad said that my sisters and I were to wait till men rich enough to look after us, care for us, came along. Problems arose and I had to leave before that could happen."

"These problems, they wouldn't have to do with a certain mystically healin' ability, would they?"  
Her smile became worn, as if it was a struggle to hold the emotion in place.

"Perhaps," the girl murmured, handing him his glass before leaving.

Jack watched her go, the door slamming against the frame as she left and he let out a low sigh.  
Knocking back the water -where was the rum?- he turned his attention back to his bandaged hand.

"Wrong thing to say Jackie, wrong thing to say."

* * *

**Someday soon, I will stop getting plot bunnies. Until that day, I'll just keep posting what I do come up with. I'm kinda stuck on 'What an Excellent Plan' at the moment, hence the lack of updates. **

**Anyway, I hope you like Verity, I plan to go into her background soon enough. Jack here, is 25 and has yet to see the burning of the ****_Wicked Wench_****. It's coming soon though, I promise. And for those of you that don't know what that is, shame on you.**

**If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading,**

**Tsume  
xxx**


	2. The 1st Chapter

**Godly Favored  
****Chapter 1**

* * *

She didn't return till the next day. Jack had spent a peaceful, storm-less night lying awake, ravaged by the pain in his right arm. Whatever Miss Lewis had done, it'd certainly worn off come night-fall, and the girl was nowhere in sight. It wasn't until the sun began to dip into the window in early morning that she reappeared.  
If he'd not had such a high fever, Jack may have perhaps said something about her late night disappearance, which would have been undoubtedly witty. However, he did happen to have a fever, which prevented his not yet thought but, surly to be splendid remark.

.

He wasn't expecting terribly dark bags to be hanging low under her eyes, as if she'd not slept all night. With the way she was walking so slowly, almost stumbling all over, it might've been the correct guess.

"Sorry, I forgot about the guards till now. I went and told them I'm fine and found my family, and in the excitement, forgot to inform them of my well-being. They took a little longer to track down than I thought they would." Seating herself next to his bed-side, Verity began rooting through the basket she was carrying, presenting Jack with a few blocks of cheese and a bag of crackers. "They're looking for you, you know. There's red-coats everywhere."  
Jack just hummed lightly, staring down at his bandaged arm and grimacing. The lady seemed to get the idea, because she reached over and took his arm up in her fingers, painfully gentle as she did so. The soothing rush that raced through his bones was like rum on a hot day, the best kind of relief that Jack had received for quite a while. Speaking of rum-

"I'm not fetching any of that," the girl muttered after he'd asked, wiping sweat back from her brow and Jack frowned. Whatever mystic voodoo she was using to help help him up, it clearly took a bit of a toll on her. After a minute of holding onto his limb, Verity stood back, wiping the sweat from her brow and grimacing at it in distaste.

"I'm going to get some sleep, okay?" She never waited for his reply, instead turning and heading into the room adjoining the bedroom Jack was currently resting it.  
It was a small room, nothing too big, perhaps half the size of his cabin of his precious ship. Something stabbed at Jack's innards at the thought of the _Wench_. He needed to get healthy soon, to go and retrieve his ship from Beckett before the English pig could do anything to harm her.

Turning to look at the basket that the girl had left beside him, Jack smiled slightly at the sight of a newspaper within it's woven depths, digging it out. At least he wouldn't be bored for the moment.

.

It was after reading the paper through three times -which, joy of all joy, had the arrest warrant for both himself and whomever helped him- that Jack found himself growing bored. An hour had to have passed now at the very least, perhaps two. God, it was boring to be injured, he didn't much like it.  
So instead of doing the sensible thing and remaining place to heal up as quickly as possible, Jack stumbled to his feet, ignoring the way his body protested and instead he tried to focus on his surroundings. His coat was neatly folded up and resting atop the lone chair in the room, boots tucked beneath it with his hat balanced upon one of the wooden arms. The first and latter looked washed too, which Jack smiled slightly at. The lass was kind and certainly didn't do things half-hearted, he'd give her that.

Making his way over to the collection of unlit candles the girl had been using as a fire, Jack poked at the hanging pot, frowning at it's emptiness. Even after the cheese and crackers, he was still rather hungry, probably from his three day lack of the food stuff. When he looked at the clock, Jack saw that more time had passed than he'd thought, for lunch time was fast approaching.

Sauntering over to the adjoining room, Jack paused before the door, looking down at his wounded arm. It was stinging slightly, the same way it'd done last night, a signal the real pain would be returning shortly.

"Oi, lass. Ye better be decent."

.

Pushing open the door with his good arm, Jack peered in, frowning at the sight that met him. It was not an adjoining room, as he'd half expected. Instead, the sight that met him was a bathroom. There was a nest of bed-covers within the metal tub, and curled up within the metal tub, the girl was sleeping. So she'd given him the bed... Jack wasn't happy with that. Just because he had a bad arm, he didn't expect a woman to sleep in a tub, even if he was all for equal opportunities.

"Verity!" He boomed at the top of his voice, watching at the girl shot in the air, scrambling about wildly. Her foot collided with the metal jug balanced on the side and it tumbled to the floor, ringing out against the wooden floor-boards.

"Urg, Jack? What ever is going on?"

"It's dinner time n' me arm's hurtin' again."

"You crybaby, tricorn sporting sea rat." Sitting up and rubbing the sleet from her eyes, the young miss Verity looked over at him before scoffing lightly, rolling her shoulders back as if she had not just issued him an insult. The dark rings beneath her eyes had lessened a bit, and for that, Jack didn't feel as guilty. Not that he'd felt terribly so in the first place, but he did owe the lass something; he'd been comfortable in his recovery so far, so he was in a slight debt. Nothing new.

"Watch it luv, you are in the company of a pirate after all."  
Rolling her grey eyes, the girl stood up, brushing hair back from her face before making her way back into the main room.

"I haven't got a lot of money, we've got a week at most before I run out of the funds to pay this room, then you'll have to go back to whatever you were doing."

"And yourself luv?" Jack questioned, making his way after the girl with his good arm swinging about in front of him. Most would say he was drunk, but Jack hadn't tasted rum in days. It just so happened that if someone thought you were drunk, you tended to get underestimated quite quickly.

"I'm havin' a thought here lass. Because correct me if ol' Jack is wrong, but aren't you not wed?"

"That's correct," the woman murmured, pulling out a bag of cured meat, inspecting a few of the pieces before she dumped it into the water filled pot. Jack watched the food tumble in and scrunched up his nose in thought, nodding along slightly because stew was okay. It was a heart meal, good for recovery.

"Then how are ye makin' your money Miss Verity?"

"I take some work as a translator sometimes, when I run out, I move on to the next port."  
A translator? Definitely from a wealthy background then, to know at least one other language.

"Seein' as you're the one bringin' in all the money then, a fine woman such as yourself should really take the bed to sleep in."

"And let the cripple curl up in a bath? No way. Beside, you're taller than I am, it is after all, only natural the taller, hurt person gets the bed."

"There's no arguin' with you on this," grumbling, Jack dropped into a chair, keeping his right arm in the air before gingerly bringing it into his lap, almost cradling the hurt limb. Who the hell knew a burn would hurt so much?

.

He must have been sat there for a while, because when he next looked up the girl was stood there, pouting slightly as if unsure of herself.

"I can heal it better with contact on the wound, but it wouldn't be painless."

"How so?"

"I tried doing it when I first brought you here, but you kept.. Fitting, for lack of better words."  
Grimacing, but never a patient man, Jack tugged at the bandages before letting out a hiss at the pain. Taking hold of his hand, Verity offered a pained smile as cool relief flooded his system. The bandages came off pretty quickly after that, and Jack got a good look at the burned, swollen flesh. No wonder it was hurting so bad, it looked worse than it felt.

"Tell me if it gets too much," the girl murmured, carefully cradling the bottom of his forearm before letting her fingers hover over the center of the wound. Sucking in a breath, Jack did his best to prepare himself for the pain. He wasn't ready.

A very manly scream left his lips before he was able to draw up his left hand a silence it by biting down onto the knuckles, careful not to actually break his own skin. Didn't need the lass healing anything else if this level of pain was the price.  
Ten seconds in, he was unable to help himself, drawing back his hand and gasping for breath. His companion was sweating too, looking very upset with what she'd just made him go through, her breaths coming in short gasps.  
However, Jack was much more fascinated with his wound. Or rather, what was once a wound and currently looking like he'd been branded too weeks ago instead of four days. The pain had all but died off now, only a lingering scent of its former self that Jack could most certainly deal with.

"That's interestin'... Very interestin'. Tell ye what luv, how do you feel about the life of a pirate?"  
Verity lifted her brows, both at the same time as if to show how great her obvious confusion was.

"Well?"

"I suppose I a few more broken laws won't hurt. I have assisted in the escape of a dangerous fugitive after all." The look in her eyes pointed to him without a doubt and Jack grinned, wiggling his brows about as he did so.

"But a mighty fine one at that luv, I'll 'ave you know that Captain Jack Sparrow is one of the most, if not the most, dashingly handsome man to sail the seas."

"Well he certainly has a lot of hair, that's for sure," Verity mused, tugging lightly on one of the dreadlocks before smiling. She stood, turning back to her in progress stew, not looking back at him.

.

Jack watched her go before rolling his eyes slightly. Without a doubt a nobleman's daughter, she had too much guts to have been a maid or anything of the sorts. Tricky little woman, just playing in the shallows of womanhood she was. Dangerous place to play around in when in pirate country.

"Say lass, do ye have any idea 'ow to handle a sword? A pistol perhaps."

"No," her voice was muffled by the fact she didn't turn back around to look at him.

"I'll teach ye then, once you come aboard me ship. You'll love the _Wench_, fastest ship on the ocean."  
The healer hummed slightly, running a hand through her hair before sighing to herself. Her shoulders had slumped slightly, as if she didn't have the energy to remain upright anymore. Apparently, the healing was more taxing than what she'd led him to believe.

Reaching out for a bowl beside her, Verity froze at the same time Jack turned his head towards the door.  
The knocking sound rang through the room and the lass gulped, gesturing for him to hide. Grimacing, Jack shot to his feet, heading for the bathroom. Perhaps he could hid beneath the covers and if whoever came in asked, the lass could call them dirty laundry waiting to be washed. He only hoped she caught on quick. It was probably only the Inn-keeper anyway.

.

Meanwhile, Verity pulled open the door, peeking around the wooden structure. A pair of red-coats stood, another man stood between them. He wore a worn green coat, looking to be ten years or so older than Jack. So he had to have a good two decades on her. Dark brown eyes peered our at her from under narrowed eyebrows and Verity blinked.

"May I help you sir?"

"We're searching the rooms, an escaped man ma'am. He's suppose to be heading for the gallows. Before we search, do you have anything to admit to?"  
From where he was eves-dropping in the bath-tub, Jack grimaced. He wasn't expecting the girl to deny having no one else in the room. He couldn't make a dash for the window, because then the red-coats and Mercer -oh he recognised his voice- would spot him. And damn it, there was no window in here. His arm seemed to throb as foot-steps neared and Jack sighed, leaping to his feet and pulling his pistol from his belt. They would have undoubtedly seen his coat and boots anyway. There was no way to avoid confrontation.

.

The door was thrown open and Jack had his pistol trained between Mercer's eyes.

"Gentlemen. How can I 'elp you?"

"Come quietly."

"Or else?" Jack mused, cocking back the safety on the pistol and watching for a twitch in Mercer's face. The man's expression didn't change, and instead he stepped to a side, showing the two red-coats with him. Or rather, what the two red-coats were holding. The silvery knife of the bayonet pressing up against the tender flesh of her throat, Verity stared back at him, grey eyes wide with panic.  
Not only did Jack have no way to run, but he couldn't shoot Mercer without the girl dying. Tricky tricky.  
Freedom at the price of the girl's life, or taking a risk that might end in his death...

"Let the lass go Mercer. She'd been me captive so far," Jack mused, watching as the girl's eyes widened slightly.

"No she hasn't sir, this is the same girl that helped him escape." Ah. So those two were the soldiers that she talked to.  
What a bit of bad luck.

* * *

It was a tense stand-off, one Verity could only stand and watch, unable to swallow. Her hands were already clasped in iron's behind her back, the metal not quite big enough to hold her thin wrists. With a bit of time, she could probably slip out of them. Yet, seeing as the red-coats she'd tricked hadn't let her out of their sight, it wouldn't be happening any time soon.  
Finally, Jack grimaced before tucking his pistol back into his sash, stepping forwards to accept his capture. But Verity spotted the small glint in his eyes.

The man had a plan.  
She wasn't sure whether to thank the gods or worry.

* * *

**I still feel like I'm dabbing my toe into this fandom, that I'm not quite swimming in it like I do the Naruto fandom. I'm sure it'll pass with time.  
Short chapter is short, and for that I'm sorry. I've never read the price of freedom before, but I hope to in the future. I'll come back and fix the mistakes -because there is sure to be some in here- when I get around to it. **

**Thanks to _Eponine Sparrow, 10th Squad 3rd Seat_ and _Alexandra-Jade_ for your reviews, made me want to write a bit faster. **

**If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading,**

**Tsume  
xxx**


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